CY@CY Says Welcome to my dreamscape. Where a Lim is also a Ling.

Eagle says hello It has seen me too often My avian model.

When butterflies mate Tips of their abdomens join Love – butterfly style.

Heeding the beggar Through a hole in my pocket  A stream of loose coins. 

Sprawled on the paper Chinese words appear out of  Calligrapher’s brush. 

After the heavy storm The army of fallen leaves Dying in defeat.

Dangerous pavements My butt knows from past winters Beaten black and blue. 

I am reminded  By the bristles on my cheeks The unmowed garden. 

Qing Ming Festival  Cemetery bursts to life Fire, smoke and incense. 

The flock of pigeons Fly over the bank building Depositing poos.

At the crack of dawn A cock’s cock-a-doodle-doo Turns on the daylight.